


The First Taste

by banana_thief



Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses -- Explicit One Shots [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Mentioned Mercedes von Martritz, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Shameless Smut, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22076875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banana_thief/pseuds/banana_thief
Summary: Byleth turned and slapped a hand over Claude's mouth. She drew in close and said through her teeth, “Alright! Hush! I know this is one of your twisted schemes, so—what do you want?”He smiled with his eyes as she pulled her hand away. “I want you inside me.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses -- Explicit One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578007
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	The First Taste

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to #claudelethNSFW on Twitter. Enjoy.

Claude wanted to spar. It was unexpected, but here they were crossing blades. Byleth knew he was adept with a bow, but she didn’t think he’d be any good with a sword. He kept her on her toes, parried and lunged with such grace and speed that she soon found herself short of breath. His skin glistened with his efforts, but his face betrayed no sign of fatigue or struggle. What had possessed him to duel with her? And why was he so _skilled?_ Byleth grew frustrated. Sweat plastered her bangs to her forehead. She had to end this—she held nothing back, and for every nimble movement of his she blocked and charged with an onslaught of unbridled power.

“Ooh, _Teach!"_ he exclaimed, all smiles and laughs. She brought her blade down hard and fast, aiming for his shoulder, but he blocked, just enough. His muscles tensed under the weight of her steel, and for a split second he looked vexed. Their blades grinding—strained. Byleth drove downward, her jaw tight with focus. Claude relented—somewhat. He dropped a knee down to steady his balance, to hold against her might. His brow furrowed, but his smile remained, albeit twisted with something Byleth couldn’t read. “I saw you in the church the other night,” he said, green eyes bright with mischief and vim. “Beneath the Saint statues.”

Byleth’s arms trembled. She wouldn’t be able to maintain her dominance for much longer. Her heart hammered inside her chest. “Saw me… _what?"_ she asked, heat crawling up her neck to her cheeks.

The two were locked in their positions—neither backing down.

“You and Mercedes. Naughty. Sacrilege. I’m surprised, thought you were… I don’t know… _pious_ ,” and with that said, Claude pressed upward, he used his legs to drive forward—dragged his blade clear across Byleth’s—a sharp sound rang out in the empty training grounds. The professor staggered backward, barely keeping her grip on the weapon.

Claude didn’t pursue, he merely stood, erect and squared, sword hand limp at his side. He sighed and looked at the blade as he waved it up and down, up and down—clearly thinking. Byleth didn’t know whether to charge or fall back, but she readied her sword, and waited—brow furrowed with anticipation.

“I want your strap,” Claude finally said, looking at her. He walked his blade over to the rack and stored it.

“My what?” Byleth asked, blinking, arms falling lax. How much had he seen? The thought of him watching her fuck Mercedes beneath the stony Saints left her reeling, but she tried to remain stoic, feign innocence as she walked over to the rack and stored her sword as well.

Claude lowered his voice. “I’m surprised no one heard you two.” He leaned in close to Byleth’s ear and whispered, “Didn’t know you fancied dirty talk—”

Byleth turned and slapped a hand over his mouth. She drew in close and said through her teeth, “Alright! _Hush!_ I know this is one of your twisted schemes, so—what do you want?”

Claude smiled with his eyes as she pulled her hand away. “What do I want? I _want_ you inside me.”  
  
She reddened, took a few steps away and pressed her back against the wall for support. “My—?”  
  
“—strap,” he finished.  
  
She looked around to make sure no one was near.  
  
Claude laughed. “I don't care if anyone knows that.”

Byleth’s vision spun. This was sudden. She was still reeling from their combat, their exchange. “I don’t understand why…”

“Out of nowhere?”

She nodded and took Claude in—his half-buttoned shirt tucked into fitted high waisted slacks. The hair on his chest still matted with perspiration. His deep skin practically glowed. His easy smile, like his request wasn’t world-shaking.

“When I saw you with Mercedes… I was instantly hard. I loved watching you take her from behind. How your hands moved over her body, the way your muscles flexed with your efforts…” he sighed, a dreamy sound. “Of course, I understand if you don’t swing my way—”

“I do.”

Claude’s smile widened.

“Now?” she asked, casting her eyes downward.

“Now. We can bathe, although I don’t mind a little musk. I do have one other demand though...”

She regarded him, anticipating.

“Wear your stockings. The lace drives me wild.”

She pursed her lips. Her body buzzed with need. Pussy wet at his words.

* * *

  
“Ooh _Teach_ —” Claude simpered.  
  
Stripped, except for the requested stockings, Byleth peered down herself at the man caressing her. Claude had already torn the lace at her crotch—allowing him better access to her wet heat.  
  
“Fuck yes… a full bush,” he purred and buried his face between her legs. Kissing over her sheer underwear—teasing with his breath, pressing with his tongue. He pulled the gusset of her panties aside and assaulted her clit with one agonizingly slow lick. All hot and glib. Byleth was already wet, but she'd be sopping by the time he did anything substantial to her. She reclined back and pressed herself into the plush bedding. Claude tweaked her nipples as he lapped and suckled on her clit—his head moving ever so slightly with each taste. She filled her small, candlelit bedroom with soft moans. She reached down and touched his downy forearms, silently goading for more of his mouth, tongue, spit.

“I adore this,” he whispered, lazily trailing his lips side to side over her swollen pussy, “watching you unravel,” while his heated gaze said, _and I love that it’s all my doing._ He rubbed her pearl with his thumb and lapped at her hole. “You taste so good.” He pushed his tongue into her, kept his thumb circling, spreading her lace-covered legs, hungry for more. Her hair was a mess of mint tinged waves, her cheeks and chest were flushed with desire. Claude’s eyes were closed, focused, his thick lashes fanning out, half crescent moons. A curl of dark hair fell forward over his forehead. He was relentless. He brought his tongue back over her clit, fucking with his mouth—coaxing an orgasm—moaned as if she were the tastiest fruit nature had to offer.

She was close. Her muscles were tightening. Her fingers sought the bedding at her sides. She couldn’t still her hips, chasing that release—fixated on the sound of his wet pleasure. She silently came, and he knew instantly—drinking in as much as he could—groaning into her slick.

She shuddered and watched, and he looked up at her, intense, lips swollen and damp. “Delicious,” he said, a naughty smile tucking into his cheek. _His turn._ They swapped, a wordless transaction. On his back—in all his naked glory, hard bodied and open—clearly relishing in being exposed. “You’re beautiful,” he said, casting a wicked look over her curves, her scars. His eyes travelled back up to her heavy breasts and pert nipples. His cock—so dark with need and erect, wet at the slit. She bent and tasted him and hummed at his flavor.

Byleth pulled away from him, feeling the weight of his gaze as she slipped into a black strappy number. The binds accentuated and hugged every curve, covering enough, showing enough. She tugged the harness over her thighs and secured everything. Turned to him and palmed her fat strap-on. Claude was eager—sprawled out on her disheveled bedding, propped by his elbows.

“Is this what you want,” Byleth asked, newly emboldened, stroking her cock for him.

“Yes.” On edge. Body wrought with lust.

She knelt between his legs and positioned herself so that his thighs rested on top of her own. He reached above him and tossed a vial over to her. She looked at it, puzzled.

“Not all of us are blessed with a wet pussy, Teach,” he said, winking. She laughed and uncorked the bottle, pouring its contents onto her strap, palming it all over. He watched intently. Leaning back allowed her the most perfect view of Claude. His strong body and piercing eyes. She stroked him and watched as his fine features were taken by bliss. A finger inside, then two, deep and slow, her other hand still stroking him. “Fuck me,” he panted, face all shades of lust. Byleth buried the urge to sit on that face, slide her wet pussy all over it. _Not that he would mind._

She pulled her fingers out and trailed kisses all over his thick, hairy thighs. Driven wild by his scent, by the taste of him. She had always been charmed, fascinated by him, and had often caught herself staring at him. But she had pushed the attraction down, because she was sure he didn’t like her, that he was oddly jealous of her—her power. But here they were, bodies interlocked, swayed by lust. Had she read him wrong?

He groaned. Seemingly impatient but loving the wait. Byleth positioned herself, and slowly pushed into him.

Claude took her. He gripped the pillow above his head and took all of her. All agony and pleasure. All quaking muscles. His chest heaved, and his armpits were black and damp and Byleth restrained herself from shoving her face into every crevice Claude had to offer. His cock was so swollen. Delectable. She gripped his thighs, rough, and he growled at the simple abuse. She thrusted into him, tempered, controlled, watching as he arched his back off the bed—so eager for her strap. His thighs still resting on hers. Nipples erect, skin flushed, that heavy look in his stunning eyes. She had definitely read him wrong. How could he hate her? He was visibly intoxicated by the feel of her cock deep inside him. Byleth rocked into him, her pussy throbbing at the sight of Claude unraveling before her.

“I’m getting off on those sounds you’re making,” she admitted.

He opened his eyes and peered up at her. “You’re good at this,” he sighed. His cock twitched, bobbed, and a strand of precum freed itself. Byleth couldn’t believe the way he was looking at her—like all of his thoughts had halted, like she’d gone celestial, an actual goddess of sex plowing into him. Enchanted by every detail, losing himself, ocean green eyes smoldering, hooded with adoration, mouth parted, ass taking every inch of her. She's close. It didn't matter. She wouldn't stop. She'd ride wave after wave of orgasmic release fucking him—all thick masculinity quivering under her.

With eyes full of worship, Claude moaned, “ _More_ , Byleth, I need more.”  
  
So, she pressed his legs further back, angled him—amazed by his flexibility—and gave him more. His balls tightened, and his groan gave her gooseflesh. She milked him, transfixed by his thread of pre-ejaculate. Her cock massaged his prostate as each thrust earned a strained cry of pleasure. She rolled her thumb and palm over his erection. Claude bucked, writhed. Byleth leaned in, sealed their mouths, and forced her tongue in. She tasted herself. Claude kissed back, made slow circling motions with his tongue. She mirrored. They fell into a fevered kiss, hands pulling at one another, breathing hard out of their noses. She kept her pace, sweat dampened her back, her tits trapped in his palms—nipples pinched between his lissome fingers. She came, her clit throbbing, still rubbing, the friction driving her wild.

“Harder!” Claude begged, his voice strained with need. He raked his finger through her hair, down her back, cupped her ass—forcing her deeper. She gripped him, gave him everything. Her cum trailed down her thighs, soaked her stockings, and Claude cursed and moaned with each thrust. “I’m—!”

He came. All over his stomach. She stroked him, wanting more. He gripped her wrist, holding on for dear life. Satisfied that he had given her plenty, she slowly pulled out and flopped onto her back beside him. They stared up at her ceiling, letting the waves of climax wash over them.

“You’re full of surprises,” he said, bringing her hand up to kiss it.

“Am I?” She turned onto her side and dragged her fingers over his chest, and down his happy trail, smearing cum.

“Mmn,” he shifted and buried his face between her breasts—inhaling deeply. “Let me spend the night, and I promise you won’t regret it come morning.”

Her smile turned into a gasp as he took her nipple between his lips. Tongue swirling. Fingers traveling downward…

How could she say no?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading~! Kudos and love are welcomed and appreciated. First time writing het smut ^^; I really like them together. I might write more.


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